


bewitched, bothered and bewildered

by orphan_account



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Bliss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 17:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12437880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They don’t usually spend Christmas morning together.





	bewitched, bothered and bewildered

**Author's Note:**

> this is a repost from awhile ago, slightly amended. please don't share with anyone depicted here; I make no money from this, and the events detailed are in no way a reflection of anything I believe to be true! but it would be super cute. i'm on [tumblr](http://harrycryingoverstevienicks.tumblr.com).

Nick wakes up to pale winter sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window, broken up by the gentle sway of gnarled, naked branches and thin, white clouds.He snuffles into his pillow and rolls onto his side, one hand groping out to find a body next to him, furnace warm and huffing out loud snores.His still-sleeping brain catches up, then, realising that the snores are not in evidence and his seeking hand finds only bunched up sheets.Nick frowns into the cosy warmth of the duvet over his head and breathes in the remaining evidence that Harry was actually there at some point; the tang of his sweat and the peachy, stale scent of his shampoo.

 

They don’t usually spend Christmas morning together.Christmas Eve is usually a rush of throwing clothes into suitcases, stuffing dog biscuits into Tesco bags and fitting in a rough shag amongst the scattered pants, toiletries and books lying on the bed, discarded as not being needed.Post-coitally, Harry lets Nick smoke a fag next to the bedroom window, perched on the dressing table, while he goes for a piss and takes the first shower.By this point, it’s usually about eight in the evening and Nick’s got to the point where he can no longer put off wrapping his presents.Harry dithers, hovering over his shoulder in the living room, before he finally decides that yes, he does want to go for a run and Nick won’t see him for another couple of hours.

 

Harry will get back and find that Nick’s only wrapped half of his presents, but has managed to quaff a whole bottle of red without him and has passed out on the sofa, Pig drooling on his ankle.So Harry will wrap the remaining presents for him (and everyone will know who got a Harry-wrapped present, because they look professionally done, as opposed to Nick’s ethos of scrunch and roll) and coax him awake, drag him to bed.Nick grumbles and grunts, but wraps himself around Harry when prompted all the same, settling into peacefulness when he feels Harry’s breaths even out against his chest.

 

It’s not a proper Christmas morning, after that, because both of them get up at about three or four to drive up north to their respective homes.It’s still dark when they pull on their joggers and baggy Christmas jumpers, yawning widely around a goodbye kiss and a brief nuzzle, before they climb crusty-eyed into their cars and start the long drive home.

 

Nick’s spent five Christmases this way, now.Five years since he reluctantly moved out of his Primrose Hill bachelor pad and into a two-storey, two-bedroom actual real house in Belsize Park with an actual real live-in partner called Harry Styles.As expected, Belsize is too posh by half for Nick, but the house has a decent garden for the dog, or dogs now.It’s the kind of house Nick used to look at in his mum’s Elle Decoration when he was younger, dreaming of sharing it with David Beckham.Or, when he was older, dreaming of fucking someone on the marble top of the island in the middle of the huge kitchen.

 

Nick has fucked Harry on the green marble top of their kitchen island about fifty times.Harry prefers more traditional settings when he’s doing the fucking, but Nick is fairly sure that this year will be his year in that respect.

 

In any case, this is the first Christmas morning that Nick has woken up in their actual house at a time when it’s light and when he doesn’t have to think about the deathly long drive ahead of him.The fact that he has not, however, woken up with Harry snuggled up next to him, is probably a crime.The worst kind of crime, because it’s been committed on Christmas Day.

 

Grumbling, Nick throws the duvet down to the end of the bed and sits up, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye and scrunching his toes.A glance at the clock on Harry’s side of the bed tells him that it’s nearly nine in the morning and a tug in his abdomen tells him that he’s dying for a piss, so he rolls out of bed, grabbing his glasses on the way and shoving his feet into his slippers (Christ, he knew he was getting old, but slippers really make him feel it; but they also make him feel very comfortable), and stumbles into the en suite.

 

It becomes very clear where Harry is as soon as he starts walking downstairs, his face a bit fresher from a splash of cold water and his hair finger-combed into something not resembling a bird’s nest.Nick can hear the sound of the radio floating up from the kitchen, as well as Harry’s raspier, clearer tone singing along; and the skitter of two dogs chasing about the tiles.

 

‘This isn’t 6Music, you traitor,’ Nick rasps, leaning on the doorjamb and half-smiling at Harry’s back, bent over the sink as he peels potatoes.Nick’s not sure how long he’s been up, but there are chopped carrots, peeled Brussels sprouts, pale strips of parsnips and raw cocktail sausages wrapped in prosciutto laid out along the island, as well as the smell of roasting turkey coming from the AGA.Harry spins around, face already split into a huge smile.He’s wearing a large red jumper that has the words ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS BABY’ emblazoned on it in white, over black running tights and oversized grey bed socks that Nick’s fairly sure he’s tried to throw away about sixty thousand times.

 

‘Sorry, Elaine Paige is on,’ he says gruffly, chucking the potato and peeler in his hands into the sink and shuffling over to lick a surprisingly dirty kiss into Nick’s mouth.‘Merry Christmas,’ he adds, pulling back and smirking.In the background, Elaine’s introducing another musical number, this time from Pal Joey.‘I would have woken you up, but I thought it’d be better if I just got on with the dinner without you being a pest.’He bites Nick’s stubbled jaw lightly and pulls away.

 

‘Heyyy,’ Nick drawls, but there’s no real bite to it.They’ve never done this before, together, but Nick’s past form with his mother is enough to lend truth to Harry’s statement.Harry pulls back and shuffles back over to the sink, picking up the potato and the peeler to get back to work.Nick wanders past the island, picking up a carrot and biting off half, and sits down on the sunken brown sofa in the conservatory, covered in blankets and pillows.He drops a hand onto Pig’s head and scratches her behind the ears.Their newest addition, Gruffalo, bounds over from where he was chewing on one of Nick’s Converse and jumps up next to him, licking messily at his ear.

 

Harry glances up and smiles dopily, his eyes going melty soft and stupid.Above and around Nick, a very light snow is starting to fall onto the panes of glass, but the sky is still blue and the sunlight bright and sharp.Julie Andrews croons about how she’s bewitched, bothered and bewildered by love and Harry growls along, smiling down at the peelings in the big white sink.

 

‘What time’s everyone getting here?’ asks Nick, gathering Gruff up into his arms and smooching him behind a soft, black ear.

 

‘My mum said about one, yours about half past,’ Harry says, finishing the last potato and chucking it into the green Le Creuset at his side.He comes around the island and over to Nick, dropping heavily into his lap and wriggling until he’s comfortably got both legs either side of his hips, lifting Gruff underneath the armpits and dumping him to the side with a kiss to the crown of his head.‘Shall we do presents now?’

 

Nick raises his eyebrows as Harry slips down to nearly grind against him.‘If all you’ve got me is sex, I’m going to be very disappointed,’ he says breathlessly, as Harry starts to suck on his pulse point.

 

‘No,’ Harry huffs out, half a laugh.

 

‘Okay, well, we should probably wait,’ Nick says, even though he’d like nothing better than to open a gift right now.He’d also quite like to see Harry’s face when he opens his; Nick thinks he’s really got it down this year.

 

‘Please?’ wheedles Harry, one hand slipping up underneath Nick’s t-shirt and scratching lightly at the hair there.

 

Nick can’t really be bothered to put up even a token fight.Sighing, he drags Harry into a deeper kiss, tasting chocolate (which means he’s already cracked into the Dairy Milk this morning) and coffee.‘Alright,’ he says quietly, pulling back and smiling in a way that he knows makes him look like a Hush Puppy.Harry beams and then gets a face full of tongue, as Gruff wiggles back between them and goes a bit mad.‘Mine’s upstairs, I’ll go get it,’ Nick laughs, pushing both puppy and boyfriend from his lap.

 

When he gets back, Harry’s poured them out two glasses of champagne and orange juice, as well as pulling the Dairy Milk out and holding Gruff back from it.Pig looks on with quite clear distain.He can’t see a present though and he drops his own down, a big roughly wrapped box, with a frown.

 

‘I’ll open mine first,’ says Harry quickly, before he dives in, tearing the bell-patterned paper off with gusto.Nick doesn’t bother to hold back an eye-roll, as he sits back down and takes a deep glug of the Bucks Fizz.It’s more champagne than orange, just the way Nick likes it.

 

‘Oh, Christ,’ says Harry a bit breathlessly, sitting back and staring at the gift wide-eyed.Even Gruff’s gone quiet, head resting on Nick’s thigh, eyes flicking quickly between his two parents.

 

‘Well, you’re always going on about how much you like my Mac,’ Nick says nervously, taking another gulp of Bucks Fizz.‘And you never get around to actually swapping over, so – I thought you might like it.There’s – I got you some editing software as well, that’ll be compatible,’ he rambles, waving vaguely at the second wrapped box beside the MacBook Pro.

 

‘It’s amazing, it’s incredible,’ says Harry quickly, turning to him with a frown.‘I love you,’ he adds, lurching over to press a graceless kiss to the side of Nick’s mouth.

 

‘Whatever you’ve got me better be coming in on a truck from the back garden,’ Nick laughs, steadying Harry with a hand to his waist.Relief floods through him like a cocaine high and he laughs again, pressing his nose into the greasy curls next to Harry’s ear.

 

‘No,’ says Harry, suddenly sounding nervous again.He pulls back and puts a hand behind him, the other pulling nervously at a thread of the Turkish blanket over the back of the sofa.‘Um, here.’His hand comes out from behind him and thrusts a small, wrapped box into Nick’s lap.

 

Nick blinks down at it and then tears it open, not giving himself time to think, because, well.‘You’re an idiot,’ he says conversationally, as he drops the paper to his side and looks down at the black velvet jewellery box in his hand.‘A complete and utter idiot.’

 

Harry smiles a little, eyes doing the melty soft thing again, as Gruff leans up to sniff at the box.Probably has a nose for money, Nick thinks wryly.

 

‘Probably more of an idiot than anyone else in the world,’ Harry agrees, leaning into Nick’s side and looking up at him from his shoulder.‘Open it though.’

 

It’s not flashy, at least, Nick thinks.Just a strand of gold twisted into a loop.‘And where am I supposed to wear this, exactly?’ he asks, tone teasing.

 

Harry rolls his eyes and snatches it from him, pushing it carefully onto his ring finger.‘Right there,’ he says quietly.‘Does it fit okay?’

 

‘Perfect,’ says Nick, flopping back against the sofa and twisting his hand with Harry’s, so that his own is facing them, the gold glinting in the sunlight.

 

‘Is that a yes?’ asks Harry hopefully, shaking their hands so that the light throws sunspots about the room.

 

Nick thinks about making him ask properly, but then his heart thumps double time and he thinks he might cry, just a little bit, so he twists and kisses Harry hard; digs one hand into his hair, pulling slightly, and presses the other to his neck, thumb right against his pulse point, feeling it tremble.‘It’s very much a yes,’ he gasps out, leaning back and pressing their foreheads together, expression serious.‘I love you, too.Thank you.’

 

Harry’s face breaks into a huge grin, brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree in their living room.‘It wasn’t – I mean, I got you something else as well.The ring wasn’t all that much, I know you don’t like diamonds and that,’ he says, leaning back to grab another box.

 

‘Jesus, talk about spoilt,’ Nick grumbles, but he’s smiling stupidly and it gets brighter when he opens it to find a watch.A watch that Nick doesn’t want to think about the price of, because it might send him spiralling into madness.It’s gold and black leather, beautifully made and when he puts it on, he realises it matches Harry’s; the one he’s had for years now.‘Absolute idiot,’ Nick reaffirms, kissing him again.

 

‘Must be, if I want to marry you,’ Harry snorts, shushing Nick with another kiss.‘Go shower and get ready, yeah?I need to do the stuffing and get the veg on.’

 

Nick watches him potter about the kitchen for a moment anyway, his heels tagged by Gruff and his growly voice singing along to I Dreamed A Dream.Not everyone, he supposes, gets a fairy tale ending, or a knight in shining armour, or whatever it is they’re looking for.He looks down at his ring and smiles, before standing up and stretching out.

 

‘If I shower, will we have time for a fuck before your mum and that get here?’ he asks hopefully, just before he leaves the kitchen.

 

Harry looks over his shoulder from where he’s bent over peering into the AGA.He bites his lip.‘If you think you can fuck me while I make the gravy, then yeah,’ he says, voice low, as though it’s the sexiest line anyone has ever come out with.

 

From the way Nick’s pulse quickens, maybe it is.‘I’m up for the challenge,’ he manages back, giving himself a blatant grope and smiling piratically when Harry’s eyes widen and dilate.

 

‘Best Christmas ever, Gruff,’ he hears Harry say, as he starts up the stairs, and he laughs.


End file.
